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He was an easy mark. Appeal to his ego, convince him I saw talent where there wasn’t any, and he was putty in my hands. He believed I was an up-and-coming talent agent who’d help him get his big break. It made it easier for me that his parents refused to have much to do with him due to continuous bouts with the law.
Kyle Townsend is more difficult to get a read on. From the limited media coverage of his comings and goings to our brief interaction at The Black Opal, he plays everything closer to the vest than Chastain.
“I doubt even if I make my way into Townsend Industries I’ll be able to get him to give up any real information that’ll do his family or his company damage.”
“You can and you will,” Dean insists.
“Our short talk at The Black Opal proves otherwise.”
“The Black— why would you approach him at a nightclub? I want something connected to Townsend Industries. I want to take that family down from the top, starting with the business that made them their fortune.”
I hate Dean. He’s impatient and petulant, and I doubt he has the wits to pull off this scheme. Unfortunately, he does have the power to put me in jail. After that first meeting in my office, he was more than happy to show me proof of forged checks with my name on them from Chastain.
Though I haven’t run a scam in over five years, I used some leftover money from Chastain to move Eve and myself out of L.A. and start my company, Martin Consulting. I consult with businesses in various areas, including employee retention, merger and acquisition transitions, and improving corporate culture.
Until I can figure out Dean’s weak spot and get him to back off, I have to play his game. I’ll use whatever he gives me in these exchanges to get rid of him. I loathe being used by him or anyone else.
I spent my entire childhood and early adulthood being used and manipulated by my father and brother.
“I went to The Black Opal,” I tell Dean, “because I figured it was where Townsend’s guard would be down. In the office, he has too much riding on him to be an open book, at least for our first interaction.”
While that was the truth, I was wrong on that front.
“Well, what’s your next play?”
I roll my eyes. Never tell anyone what your next move is. “I’ll figure it out.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“You know what, Dean? As wonderful as this conversation has been, I have real work to do. I’ll let you know when I have something for you.” I disconnect the call.
The email I was typing to the Girls on the Move program director stares at me from my computer screen. The longing to be able to focus on this type of work overcomes me. I volunteer and do some pro bono work for the organization that focuses on teen and young adult women with juvenile records who want to turn their lives around. The program helps build the girls’ self-esteem, along with educational and business skills in various ways.
It’s where my passion lies.
Unfortunately, that type of work doesn’t pay the bills.
It also won’t pay for Eve’s hefty boarding school education. Which I absolutely will not let her go without. As long as she wants to attend the school, I’ll ensure it happens.
“Hey, Charlotte,” I call right as she’s hanging up the phone from ordering lunch. “Could you do me a favor and get me every article you can find on Townsend Industries?”
A wrinkle forms between her eyebrows. “Townsend? Have we been contacted by someone over there?” She starts searching through the notebook on her desk as if looking for information she forgot.
Since most of our clients come by word of mouth, we rarely do outreach to companies to get jobs.
“No,” I tell her. “Not directly.”
She pauses and then snaps. “Oh, right, you mentioned Kyle Townsend last week. Did you ever get to have that meeting with him?”
Charlotte caught me reading over one of the blog posts about the Townsend family the other week. I’d lied and told her I had a dinner meeting with Kyle Townsend but hadn’t gone into further details.
“He ended up canceling.” I hate lying to her, but I want to give Charlotte as few details as possible. To keep her out of my mess. Charlotte came to work for me directly from the Girls on the Move program at nineteen. She’s working on getting a degree in software engineering, starting at the local community college.
The less she knows, the better.
But my assistant isn’t a dummy, as evidenced when she narrows her eyes on me.
“Since when do you want to work with billionaire types?” She half-smirks. “I thought you said they already have a treasure trove of consultants at their disposal, ready to get bent over a desk to work with them.”
